


All of You

by QuinTalon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Co-workers, F/M, Fluff with a sprinkling of cheese, Hermione has a Plan, Romance, Secret Santa, Smitten Hermione
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:33:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21889735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuinTalon/pseuds/QuinTalon
Summary: What’s a witch to do when she draws the name of the wizard she fancies for the mandatory departmental Secret Santa gift exchange? Why, use it to her advantage of course.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 51
Kudos: 336





	All of You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [89JadedPictures](https://archiveofourown.org/users/89JadedPictures/gifts).



> Written for The Write Stuff gift exchange. I hope you enjoy this lil bit of fluff and cheese, 89JadedPictures!
> 
> My thanks and love to NuclearNik for her alpha and beta help on this. You are the best, my dear!
> 
> Disclaimer: Many thanks to JK Rowling for creating an amazing world we love to play in. I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters, they're just kind enough to help me tell this story.

* * *

* * *

Hermione stared down at the crinkled bit of parchment in her hand, reading the name of her Secret Santa recipient for the tenth time. She bit her lip and lifted her eyes to look at her co-worker across the room as he reached into the ratty Santa hat to pull out his own name for the department-wide gift exchange. 

She watched him read the name quickly and stuff the slip into his pocket. His eyes roved the room, his boredom evident in the lazy way he took in his surroundings. But then his grey eyes fell on her, and he sent her a small smile. A smile that she shyly returned while fervently hoping he could not see the blush that was sure to be spreading across her cheeks, before dropping her eyes back to her hands.

He always made her blush nowadays. 

Despite her best efforts, she had slowly been falling for her former classmate and adversary, now co-worker and casual friend.

To everyone’s surprise, Neville had befriended Draco during their eighth year at Hogwarts. They bonded over Herbology of all things; Draco taking a renewed interest in the subject after part of his mother’s beloved gardens were destroyed during the war. He had been determined to restore it for her. 

With Harry and Ron away at Auror training, Hermione had spent most of that school year with Ginny, Luna, and Neville, and therefore occasionally found herself in the presence of Draco when Neville persuaded him to join them. Things had been decidedly icy between her and the Slytherin for months until Neville intervened and asked Hermione to give Draco a chance, to try to get to know him and see for herself that he was no longer the prat of prior years. Trusting Neville, she had extended an olive branch in the form of inviting Draco to join their study group. By the time they graduated, her circle of friends had grown to include not only Draco but Theo and Blaise as well.

And now Draco worked alongside her at the Ministry. They still got together with their friends each week, spending time together as part of a group, but it was rarely just the two of them—which was fine because she had a hard enough time recently keeping her blushing and stares to a minimum at work and with their friends; she’d most likely embarrass herself if they were ever alone. 

Not that he had any idea that she had feelings for him beyond polite friendliness. He didn’t know that she wanted to hold his hand, spend all her time with him, wrap herself up in his arms, laugh with him as they cuddled on the sofa, kiss his cheek and lips and neck and— 

Well, the point was that he didn’t know how her thoughts and dreams were full of him and what they could be together. And while Gryffindors may be known for their courage, and Hermione may be able to face most things—telling a wizard she fancied him was where she drew the line.

But as she looked once more at him and the smirk stretching his lips, an idea came to her that might just make this the best Christmas she’s ever had.

* * *

Hermione waited anxiously for Draco to arrive at work a week later. They both worked in the department’s bullpen, their desks across the room from each other but positioned perfectly so Hermione could look at him without it being obvious. 

Not that she did that _all_ the time, just sometimes. Like when he arrived in the mornings, when he stood to get a cuppa or head to a meeting, when he stretched his long arms over his head and his shirt pulled taut against his chest… 

Okay, so maybe she watched him a bit. He was just so _distracting_. Deliciously, unintentionally distracting.

She had to keep from fidgeting when she saw his signature blond head bobbing through the crowd as he made his way to this desk. Biting her lip, she watched as he noticed the blue and silver package on his desk, picking it up to read the note attached. He turned the small card over, looking for who it was from, but she knew it only said _I like how your mind works_ and was signed _Your Secret Santa_. 

With a shrug, he ripped off the paper and paused, staring down at the book in his hands. His head snapped up as he scanned the room, and Hermione dropped her eyes back to the work in front of her. It wouldn’t do for him to catch her looking his way. When she thought it was safe, she looked up again and held back a smile.

He was flipping through the Arithmancy book with a grin on his face.

  
  


The next few days followed the same pattern. Hermione would arrive early to leave a gift on Draco’s desk, each wrapped in the same blue and silver paper, each with a note from his Secret Santa. And each day, she watched in anticipation to see his reaction. 

She had taken time to plan out each gift, hoping he would understand some of what she was trying to convey—that she saw him, not the Draco Malfoy he portrayed to the world, but the _true_ Draco Malfoy. The person he was when he allowed his mask to slide off, the person she found intriguing and endearing, the person she fancied very much indeed.

Gift two had been a framed photo taken at a recent Quidditch game, with a note saying _I like your laugh_. In it, Draco, Blaise, and Neville sat with wide smiles as they listened to Theo telling a story, his arms waving about in wild gestures. The image loop ended with Draco throwing his head back, Blaise slapping his leg, and Neville near doubled over as the three howled in laughter. It had quickly become one of Hermione’s favorite pictures. Not only because it showed how far they had all come, but because of the sheer delight on Draco’s face and the memory of the sound of his laugh.

Draco smiled down at the photo when he opened the gift, and it now sat proudly on the corner of his desk.

She had been hesitant with gift three, not sure how he would receive it. His mother, Narcissa, had been suffering from migraines for the past few years, and Hermione overheard him say that the usual potions no longer worked well for her. So, Hermione had decided to do some research on Muggle pain relief methods for migraines. The gift included various homeopathic remedies as well as a few over-the-counter pain relievers, with instructions on how to administer them. The note read _I like how much you care about your family and friends_. 

At lunch, Draco took the box straight to his mother.

The fourth gift may not have been as personal as the others, but Hermione was proud of it. Despite having been rubbish at knitting when she was fifteen and making wonky-looking hats for the poor, unsuspecting house-elves of Hogwarts, Hermione found the act relaxing, so she continued to knit over the years and was now rather good at it, if she did say so herself. Months ago, she found the most gorgeous woolen yarn, soft to the touch and a lovely shade of silvery blue. She bought several skeins of it on impulse and decided to make a scarf, setting it aside once it was completed. She had forgotten about it until she hatched her Secret Santa plan. 

Draco had wrapped the scarf that matched his eyes around his neck, running his hand down it slowly. A slight pink spread across his cheeks as he read the note.

_I like how your eyes light up when you smile_.

* * *

  
  


It was the day of the department Christmas luncheon when the final Secret Santa gifts would be exchanged, and Hermione was fidgeting in her seat as she waited for an opportunity to present her gift to Draco. She had already received her gift, a lovely stationery set from Mary Redding, and was now watching Draco across the room. He was currently chatting with Blaise, to whom he had gifted a fine bottle of Ogden’s. She saw Draco’s eyes sweeping the room as they spoke, and she bit her lip when she realized he was looking at her. 

More accurately, looking at the blue and silver gift she clutched in her hands. He muttered something to Blaise over his shoulder as he stepped away and began to cross the room. 

Hermione stood on shaky legs, and with a hopefully confident smile, met him by the tired little Christmas tree wedged into the corner of the room. Her heart was pounding in her ears, and she was sure it was loud enough he could hear over the din of the party.

They stood staring at each other awkwardly for a few moments before Draco asked, “So, all those gifts? It was you?”

Nodding, Hermione breathed out, “Yes.” She tucked an unruly curl behind her ear, fighting the blush she just knew was coming. “I hope you liked them.”

“I did. They were brilliant. I… What you did for my mother…” He cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

Hermione mumbled a quiet, “You’re welcome,” as she nodded. “Here,” she blurted out, shoving the last gift toward him, her hand trembling. “There’s one more.” 

She watched as he read the note, his eyebrows rising slightly. 

_I like that you allow me to see glimpses of the real you._

He ripped off the paper and lifted the lid, revealing a small figurine. Reaching in, he pulled out the intricately carved wooden fox, a representation of his Patronus. 

Two years ago, she had come upon him reading a text on the subject. They had already been working together for a few months by that time, and she was finding herself becoming even more intrigued by him. Noticing that the book he had, while somewhat informative, was lacking in practical application, she had suggested finding someone to guide him as he learned to cast the complicated Patronus charm. He had looked at her with a calculating eye for a moment before saying if he was going to learn, why not learn from the best? Two weeks later, she had cheered and clapped as his corporal fox had dashed about the room. Draco had laughed, and it was the first time she had ever heard his real laugh, nothing like the haughty snickers from his youth. Looking back, she realized that was the day her feelings towards him began to shift.

“This is..." Draco trailed off, his eyes meeting hers, and she got the feeling he was searching for something.

She blinked and focused on the open box in his hands. She lifted her hand and tapped the edge of it. “Look in the box. There’s one more thing.” 

Hermione felt a moment of panic. This was it. If her plan did not go as she hoped, it would mortify her. She’d be dead. Done. She would have to quit her job, pack up her flat, and move to Madagascar.

He tucked the fox into his pocket and reached into the box once more, pulling out a second note. He read it quickly and froze. She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed thickly, his eyes running over the words again. The words she had agonized over and rewritten countless times.

_I like you. All of you._

He looked up at her, mouth open as though he wanted to say something, but she gestured towards the note. “Turn it over.”

His brow furrowed as he read. “A recipe for marzipan? But don’t you hate it?”

“Yes, it’s disgusting. Way too sweet. But you love it.”

“I do, but what does that—” 

The words rushed from her, louder than she intended, cutting off his question. “Would you like to have dinner with me?” She swallowed. “Tonight? Or tomorrow, if you’re busy or—” 

“I would love to have dinner with you tonight.” He stepped closer to her, a slow grin spreading across his face.

“Good. Great! I’m glad because—” Hermione stuttered to stop when she noticed he was inching closer to her, his hand coming to rest on her hip. That blasted blush was back, she just knew it. She was sure the glow could be seen a mile away. “I, um, I made you some marzipan.”

His grin even wider now, Draco leaned down and whispered, “Because you like me?”

Hermione closed her eyes. She felt hot. He was so _close_. And he smelled so good. Merlin, did he smell good. Her blush rushed from her cheeks down her neck and chest when her mind finally caught up to his words. She opened her eyes and bit her lip. She could do this.

“Yes. I really do, despite your horrible taste in sweets.”

He laughed, a delighted sound that wrapped around her, warm and comforting. “Well, that’s good. I like you too.”

She absolutely could not help the assuredly goofy, smitten smile those words caused. “Really?”

A nod and his arms snaking their way around her waist accompanied his reply. “Mhmm. I do.”

“Oh, that’s nice.” She allowed herself to be gently pulled into his arms. 

Draco’s eyes crinkled in a smile. “It is. Hermione, may I kiss you now?”

“Oh! Yes, please.”

Cupping her face with one hand, Draco lowered his lips to hers and _oh_ ! All her daydreams and fantasies and imaginings were nothing compared to the reality of being kissed by Draco Malfoy. It was like that feeling she got every time he looked at her, like she’s flying and falling at once, but somehow even _more_. She knew this was a feeling she could easily become addicted to, and she sincerely hoped it was one that she could indulge in with increasing frequency.

Pulling back with a quick peck to her parted lips and a sweet nip to her nose, Draco grinned down at her. “You know, you didn’t have to do all of this to get me to go out with you.”

Hermione chuckled. “I know that _now_. But you are very hard to read sometimes. I’d been looking for a way to tell you how I felt for months. When I drew your name, I knew this was my chance, so I went for it.” She smirked. “Worked out quite well if I do say so myself.”

Draco merely hummed in agreement and pressed his lips to hers once more.

Losing herself in the kiss, Hermione vaguely heard Blaise muttering as he walked past them. “Couldn’t wait one bloody week. Now I owe Neville twenty galleons, the smug prat.”


End file.
